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Monthly Archives: March 2013

Still buying books with a bag over my head, but I’m seeing things more clearly now. And wouldn’t you know: I’ve pared down the ol’ pull list, but I’m picking up more and more books–and a Moore book, too, for good measure!

Pull-List Pretties

Fatale #13 (Wild west? In my groove–especially now that I’m addicted to Bunn’s The Sixth Gun. Already feelin’ Book of the Week.)

Fury: My War Gone By #10 (Just the thought of this series coming to an end makes me not want to open it up.)

Derek Mainhart: Friends, mutants and aliens, lend me your ears! Join us as we travel back to the future, to a time when heroes roamed the sky and science paved the way for a better tomorrow! A time of ancient robots and futuristic gladiators! Atomic monkeys and electric guitars! Beckoned by the spark of a holographic welder’s torch, we hurtle forward into history to meet our retro-destiny! Like sands through the hourglass, so are the Days of Our Future Past…

A 1930s pulp hero created in the 1980s and revived in the 2000s? Who better to exemplify nostalgia for an innocent era that never was than The Rocketeer? Like his contemporary Depression-era adventurer, Indiana Jones, Dave Stevens’ legendary creation peddled in, and paid homage to, the wanton exuberance of classic B-movie serials. Stevens’ buoyant, uncynical cliffhangers (hell, the lead character’s name is Cliff) combined with his lush illustration (its classic draftsmenship itself like a relic from a bygone era) to inspire a devoted cult following. And let’s not forget his masterstroke; making pin-up queen, Betty Page, Cliff’s girlfriend. Stevens’ work was so accomplished, it seemed superfluous for anyone else to try their hand at the character, even after his untimely death in 2008.

Some characters however, are simply too good to fade away. Happily IDW has relaunched The Rocketeer, giving the hero his due: first in an anthology series featuring top-flight creators, then in a four-issue mini by creative team par excellence, Mark Waid and Chris Samnee. Now we have Roger Langridge and J Bone on The Rocketeer: Hollywood Horror. Folks, this may be the best new Rocketeer yarn yet. The previous stories tried (and succeeded to various degrees) to recapture the inherent nostalgia of the character via an innocent, never-say-die tone indicative of 1930s and ’40s Americana, perhaps casting it against a major historical backdrop like, say, WWII. Well Langridge goes five steps further and fully immerses him in the era. This should perhaps come as no surprise from a writer whose past work has encompassed everything from the slapstick of early cinema (Fred the Clown, hysterical) to Carrollian nonsense (Snarked!, inspired) to his current work, the vaudevillian, high-seas adventures of Popeye (a gift to anyone with an appreciation for the history of the medium). For The Rocketeer, he’s not satisfied to present his tale in a typical one-size-fits-all B-movie slang; rather he seems conversant in a variety of era-specific patois and idiom. Further, he entangles our hero with fictional characters specific to that time: first, the minions of Doc Savage (that greatest of pulp heroes), and then, seemingly apropos of nothing, Nick and Nora (and Asta!) from the venerated Thin Man film series. Between this and the multitude of references to old movies and forgotten actors (the narrator himself seems to be one), this book is a dream for lovers of pulp and classic Hollywood. It would be right at home being introduced by Robert Osborne on TCM. And let’s not forget J Bone’s pitch-perfect art. His bold, cartoony rendering immediately cues dirigibles, De Soto’s and dames. His work stands well with Darwyn Cooke and Jeff Smith (one wishes he was handling the covers as well; nothing against the legendary Walt Simonson, but his style, all harsh angles and frenetic line, is simply a poor fit – my one quibble). All in all Langridge and Bone are crafting a Rocketeer comic that is not only worthy of its legacy, but builds on it. Somewhere, I daresay, Dave Stevens is smiling.

Scott Carney: Geez, yeah, all that and– OK, who am I kidding? I’m not as tuned into the history of The Rocketeer as you are. (Is anyone?) In fact, my first experience with the character was The Cargo of Doom.

DM: Oh, trust me; there are people who know way more about The Rocketeer than I do. What about the movie? Ring a bell?

SC: There was a movie?

DM: I can’t even.

SC: No, really, I liked what Waid and Samnee did in their mini. If I’m being honest, I bought the series for them; and for the most part, I wasn’t disappointed; but I wasn’t all of a sudden a Rocketeer fan. As far as I was concerned, it was an act of loyalty–to the creators; and if they were to take on the character again, I’d be there. Wasn’t planning on ever following the further adventures of Cliff Secord. In fact, I passed on this one–initially, anyway. You recommended it–emphatically, if I’m remembering correctly–so I picked it up. Dude, you were so right. What a good time! Through two, I’m thinking, like you, that Hollywood Horror is at a whole other level, thanks to Langridge’s vision and Bone’s fleshing it all out.

DM: Next up in our Canyon of Heroes is Archer and Armstrong#8 (Valiant). Their centuries-spanning pseudo-epic is rich in taste but refreshingly light in calories. Part buddy-story, part sibling-rivalry, part worldwide-conspiracy, this frothy fable features improbable adventure and high satire. It’s like TheDa Vicni Code as written by Terry Pratchett. Writer Fred Van Lente (with solid art by Emanuela Lupacchino and Guillermo Ortego) garnishes the high-octane action with Big Ideas and comedic flourish, never failing to entertain. His one misstep here though; in an attempt to counter the usual lighthearted tone with some emotional heft, he has the villain speak of his role in an event that is very like a recent national tragedy. My immediate reaction, for what it’s worth, was a discomfiting “too soon.” Again, this is a quibble, lasting as it does for all of one panel. Month in, month out, we write about the pleasures delivered by Van Lente & Co.’s work on this book. So pick the damn thing up, if you haven’t already.

Scott Carney: I know you’re glad I picked up Buddy Cops(Dark Horse) for you after your initial pass.

Buddy Cops #1

DM: Yeah it was all right I guess…

SC: “All right”? That’s quite an understatement, my friend!Sure, Buddy Cops–an hilarious one-shot from a publisher that has been making its name seem more and more ironic with each passing week–seemed to come out of nowhere. In fact, it was an “Oh, and by the way” recommendation from one of my shop guys. (That’s right: I have more than one.) There was room enough in my bag and a few bucks still smoldering in my pocket, so I went for it; and I was not disappointed. As promised, Nate Crosby and Evan Shaner deliver “da muthaf***in’ ruckus” in this crack-a-panel homage-slash-send up of the buddy cop genre. The ready-to-rumble, Wu-Tang spoutin’ Uranus and the electrode-in-the-mud T.A.Z.E.R. are on the case–three of ’em, in fact–and take on outrageous creatures (including, a ninety-foot-tall orangutan in a monk’s robe, who professes precariously, “da lord iss my sligshot,” while sitting atop a church) and social issues (Gay marriage! Arbortion!) in one giant “monsterswat!” They are Riggs and Murtaugh from Lethal Weapon; they are Carter and Lee from Rush Hour; they are Hammond and Cates from 48 Hours; they are Starsky and Hutch from, well, Starsky & Hutch–the T.V. show, dammit! But despite their being so obviously and so proudly derivative, they’re the freshest pair to hit the funny pages in recent memory. I laughed out loud and profess my love for this book even louder! And, borrowing from George Costanza, I say this with an unblemished record of staunch heterosexuality: I hope this isn’t the last I’ll get to see of Uranus.

DM: Ok, ok, it was funny. Yeesh! Even so, it wasn’t even the funniest book this week, at least for my money.

SC: Keep your dirty money!

DM: Would that I could. But the biggest barrel o’ laffs this week was Bravest Warriors #6 (kaboom!). This time out, our future science heroes are knee-deep in bazookas, beauty pageants and brain transplants; and that doesn’t even scratch the surface. Joey Comeau’s story takes beloved sci-fi tropes and makes mincemeat out of them. And having his hysterically depraved scenarios drawn by Mike Holmes in the faux-naive, child-friendly style of Adventure Time (saturated in pretty, pretty colors by Lisa Moore) just makes the whole thing seem so, so wrong. (Ditto Ryan Pequin’s giggle-inducing back-up story). The absurdity in this book is so ridiculous, it’s almost profound.

Of course the book that did more than any to bring science adventurers to the modern era was Jack Kirby and Stan Lee’s Fantastic Four. Emphasis on mod. After fifty-plus years of history, it’s easy to forget that these staples of the spinner rack were once downright cutting edge. As Pop Art was breaking the boundaries between ‘fine’ and ‘low’ art, Kirby was exploding the restrictive design of the comics page. In the midst of the Space Race, the costumed quartet were frequent fliers. And at the height of the British Invasion, Lee and Kirby gave comics its own Fab Four. Those early issues still crackle with energy and freshness. As the years wore on however, FF inevitably transitioned from zeitgeist to nostalgia, revolutionary to venerable.

Now Eric Stephenson and Nate Bellegarde have dusted off the elements that made FF great and reconfigured them (along with a whole bunch of other stuff) to create Nowhere Men(Image), a decidedly 21st century comic. The story (with the tagline ‘Science is the New Rock-N-Roll’) concerns four celebrity scientists (bearing more than a passing resemblance to The Beatles) who banded together in the ’60s, forming a mega-conglomerate called World Corp dedicated to the betterment of mankind. In the present however, they’ve long since gone their separate ways, due to ego clashes, differing visions, (sound familiar?) as well as mysterious circumstances that haven’t been fully revealed yet. One or all of them are also somehow involved in the fate of a space crew whose mission has somehow gone seriously awry.

Here the comparison to FF is particularly instructive: where Kirby and Lee, reflective of their age, presented a utopian faith in scientific progress, Stephenson and Bellegarde present a view that is, not cynical exactly, but knowing, tempered by an awareness of human weakness and fallibility. The innocence of scientific discovery for its own sake has been replaced by the reality of serving corporate profit. Technological advancement is understood as at least as destructive as it is creative. For example, in FF the group is testing an experimental rocket when they are struck by ‘cosmic rays’ endowing them with superpowers, which they promptly use to protect humanity (with the monstrous Thing serving as tragic, though still noble, counterpoint). In Nowhere Men, we have a group of scientists quarantined in a space station due to a ‘sickness’ they’ve contracted under mysterious circumstances. The effects of the sickness affect each individual randomly, even capriciously, as some are granted ‘abilities’ (as opposed to ‘superpowers’) while others undergo grotesque transformations that make the Thing look like Michael Caine in comparison. And some are in between (one of the more appealing characters seems to combine the brute strength and appearance of the Thing with the intellectual remove of Mr. Fantastic). Where one offered limitless promise, the other deals in disillusionment; even the title seems to suggest it.

This is far from a hopeless affair however. For one, the sheer inventiveness of the storytelling will not allow it. In addition to alternating between the past and present, Stephenson’s elliptical narrative is fragmented amongst various viewpoints. Only now, in this fourth issue, are its non-linear elements beginning to coalesce (I didn’t even feel comfortable reviewing the thing ’til now). But that’s not all. The very presentation of information is unorthodox. In the current issue for example, Stephenson thinks nothing of inserting three pages of prose – an excerpted ‘chapter’ from a tell-all history of World Corp – right in the middle of the action. This not only serves as a clever transition, but adds visual depth to the story, as the chapter is presented in a specific graphic style that convincingly suggests the late ’70s / early ’80s. Where FF‘s brash, boundary-breaking style was in keeping with the modern sensibilities of its era, Nowhere Men‘s approach is distinctly postmodern, befitting our own fractured time.

Which brings us to perhaps the most notable aspect of the book: its design. FF had the kinetic genius of Kirby’s art. Nowhere Men instead employs the principles of sophisticated modern graphic presentation. The clean, cold concision of Bellegarde’s art is impressive enough. But it is packaged, along with the aforementioned textual pieces, faux ads and information graphics, in a carefully considered manner that takes into account the comic book as an object. The refined aesthetic has been compared, aptly, to Stanley Kubrick’s 1968 masterpiece, 2001: A Space Odessey. Fonografiks, the company responsible for the look of the book, is really to be commended; I only wish the name of the specific designer was credited. The inside covers, the selection of fonts, the credits; all act in concert to create a visually immersive experience that reinforces the incidents of the story. When was the last time the design of a comic played such a concerted, integral role in the narrative?

FF has had any number of interesting runs over the years (Jonathan Hickman just finished up a pretty good one at that). But the true successor to Kirby and Lee’s vision, innovation and cultural relevance is Nowhere Men. Book of the Week.

Rachel Rising #15 (Abstract Studio): I’m all caught up and wanting Moore! No self-respecting comic nerd should be without this title on his or her list.

The Sixth Gun: Sons of the Gun #2 (Oni): I’m through the first two trades of The Sixth Gun, waiting on the next two. (Go Amazon!)

You Always Remember Your First

East of West #1 (Image): Miss an Image #1? Not a chance! Seriously, though, while I missed out on Hickman’s The Manhattan Projects (I did order Volume 1 recently and am awaiting its arrival, however), I’ll not make the same mistake here. Definitely worth a shot.

East of West #1

Green Hornet #1 (Dynamite): Mark Waid. ‘Nuff said.

Green Hornet #1

Did you pick up on it? Of course you did. It’s yet another first: no DC books this week. That’s kinda huge. A little light on the ol’ Marvel, too, now that I think of it.

Like this:

In a comic book world of over-hyped relaunches, reboots, and non-reboot reboots, it’s refreshing to see a book like Doctor Atlantis—a steam-powered swashbuckling adventure tale from Rare Earth Comics, an up-and-coming publisher from Connecticut–rise above the madness by living under the radar. But it won’t be living there much longer, especially if the creators, Ian Ally-Seals and Carl Mefferd, maintain the high standard they’ve set with this fanciful throwback that’s not entirely unlike a popular Disney franchise or a Spielbergian spectacle.

Doctor Atlantis #1

Vol. 2 of this action-packed high-seas romp–the further exploits of Dr. Julius Fowler and Chosot (think Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe and Friday if you haven’t already)–is loaded to the gills with the same twists and tacks that made Vol. 1 such a pleasure to read. The tide is high from the get-go, with wave after relentless wave of monsters: those from the depths of the ocean and those who ride upon it in cannon-laden crafts ironically emblazoned with the Crown of Civilization. Fowler and friends–including the loyal Edward, a salty dog, indeed, who’ll chew his way into your heart–fight off the fiends and break out a bit o’ the old Bond–James Bond–in order to do so. But even before the good ship Atlantis converts–“wrrrrr,” “crank,” “clang”–into a submarine and dives in a dazzling defensive maneuver, the creators dive into the doctor’s backstory, driving home with the subtlety of a cyclone the brutality of the British Empire as it necessarily expanded its reach in order to score precious resources enough to keep calm and carry on–even as Fowler himself has sailed as far from home as humanly possible.

The splashes are humbly epic, the tempered tone just an illusion perpetuated by Mefferd’s black and white art, which doesn’t need the rainbow to render effervescently Fowler’s colorful personality. The doctor’s over-the-top delivery, which I enjoyed reading out loud to my wife, adds a remarkable element to the character, one that will keep him in mind until the next eagerly anticipated volume.

Ally-Seals–also the editor-in-chief of Rare Earth Comics–has a uncanny knack for lulling his reader into the comfort of a cliche and then disrupting that complacency with something wholly unexpected. And the surprises are real “Whoa!” moments–more, they’re whoaments!–well worth the price of admission.

You may be wondering: does one need to read Vol. 1 to enjoy Vol. 2? No. But I’d recommend it–especially considering how the former finishes off. Either way, do yourself a favor and check out Doctor Atlantis. Fowler, Chosot and their creators “have a world to explore” and you do not want to be left behind.

Turns out, Brian Wood’s The Massive is about this week’s haul. Man, I could’ve sworn that I was trimming my typical take-home. Silly me. Sure, I’ll be closer to broke after Wednesday, but there are some top-notch books in this bunch, which makes it so worth it.

Right There Waiting for Me

Mind MGMT #9 (Dark Horse): Hoping for a little more after a slightly off month. (By “off,” I mean “really, really good,” which, for the average book, would be, clearly, a compliment. Matt Kindt, however, has been working at a much higher level on this title; so anything shy of mind-blowing is remarkably obvious.)

Mind MGMT #9

Action Comics #18 (DC): Finally, Morrison’s finale. Could very well be my jumping off point, which will leave me Superman-free. Big-time sigh–especially considering Big Blue was a big reason why I got back into buying comics. We’ll see what Diggle digs up next month–and what Snyder and Pak bring to the rack in the months to come.

Batwoman #18 (DC): Another one I may jump off of. J.H. Williams’ art has been the draw, and that chore has now been delegated to another–in this case, Trevor McCarthy, who’s a fine artist, sure; but will he do enough–as Williams did–to overcome the story’s shortcomings?

Wonder Woman #18 (DC): Still solid. A book you can count on every month–whether it’s Chiang or Akins on art.

TMNT: The Secret of the Foot Clan #4 (IDW): Mateus Santolouco conjured up a little magic in this mini. It’s a shame it’s only four! Let’s hope he gives us some more down the road.

Comeback #5 (Image): Ran the same route as Dark Horse’s Colder. Started off a house afire and cooled off quickly–to the point where I couldn’t wait for it to end. The waiting’s over.

Revival #8 (Image): Still have some mixed feeling about this one. #7 was definitely an step in the right direction. But there’s too much evidence that inconsistency is the true plague at play here.

Daredevil #24 (Marvel): #23 was great on many levels. The Power Pair of Waid and Samnee are killing it–and Foggy? Say it ain’t so!

Daredevil #24

Indestructible Hulk #5 (Marvel): I hope we’re not all monster this time around. Not after the House half of last issue.

Ultimate Spider-Man #21 (Marvel): Not going to use Venom as a epithet this time around. Amazing, I know! I’m keeping an open mind because of how Bendis ended #20.

Harbinger #10 (Valiant): Dysart’s kicking all sorts of ass. A must read.

Poison Elves #1(Ape Entertainment): Lucifer returns! One of my faves–created by the late Drew Hayes–is brought back to life by Robb Horan and Osvaldo Pestana Montpeller. Could be good, could suck. Either way, worth a try.

Derek Mainhart: Provocative title, eh? Well, we’ll get to that in a minute. First to some (finally) finished business.

Scott Carney: Finished, indeed–at least as far as Animal Man #18 (DC) finishes anything. And thank the good Lord, too. The Rot was wearing on me, man. It’s no secret: we didn’t care for the big two-part Rotworld finale for an unholy host of reasons. Lucky for us, the finale was only the finale of the storyline as it takes place in the actual Rotworld; and by actual, I mean possible because, in the end, Baker and Holland were presented with the opportunity to keep it all from happening in the first place–and, boy, did they take it! I can’t get into the nitty-gritty of the real finale, however, without first commenting on the ill-conceived cover. Jae Lee’s anguished Animal Man is stunning; and the cover would’ve been, too, had it not been sullied by a tragically-placed assertion that spits vomits in the eye of subtlety:

I mean, come on! Check out this art-only cover; it’s so much more effective:

Animal Man #18–Right?

Add the requisite logo and bar code and we’re still talking about an absolutely killer cover.

SC: Once inside, we’re treated to a quick little recap of the end of Swamp Thing #17 and then sucked into what Buddy refers to as “the most unsettling sensation,” while describing his return to the pre-Rotworld present. I found the narration unsettling, as well; it seems to creep toward the edge of profundity, never quite making it there, and, as a result, festers in ineffectuality and leaves behind unintentionally laughable lines–and a hero for whom I had trouble hoping the very best.

(I don’t do this very often: spoiler alert!!!)

I did find a truly touching moment in Buddy’s remembering Cliff’s finger painting different animals when the latter was “a little boy.” I’d have trouble, though, if you were to ask me to “flip the pages and point to another” such moment. Couldn’t do it. See: after that singular scene–in retrospect, the necessary father-and-son set-up for the end–the story dies as quickly and as unceremoniously as Cliff–who passes proudly as a “hero–just like [his father],” which, on a side note, is an interesting counterpoint to something Jeff Lemire’s developing in another one of his books, Green Arrow #18: Komodo, the Bullseye to Green Arrow’s Daredevil, has a daughter who–speaking of unsettling–plays the role of an evil apprentice, who also has a connection, story-wise to fingers, oddly enough; in this case, the little girl is used as a pointed threat against one of her father’s prisoners: “[…], or my daughter starts cutting off your fingers.” (By the way, I’m still not too sure how I feel about it. Kudos to Lemire for that!)

Back to Animal Man and the devolution of the story: with my own fingers dutifully turning pages, I found the dialogue disappointingly reminiscent of #17 (“So just die already!”). And how strange was the splash on page 18, with the guys in the yellow suits shedding their rot? At last! Something interesting! But, despite their presence on the page, neither Buddy nor Maxine react to the seemingly important revelation; and when Buddy finally does seem to notice them–several panels later–he doesn’t seem all that concerned! It was all so very awkward and forced–well, Lemire did have to live up to the promise of the textually explicit cover, after all; couldn’t bring myself to care, though, even with the final splash–and just not what I’ve come to expect from the aforementioned esteemed writer, who is an absolute master at developing sympathetic characters and complex yet relatable relationships. My expectations are still high for him and Animal Man, so I’ll be sticking around for more–especially since we’re headed in a new direction.

DM: Scott Snyder, on the other hand, in Swamp Thing #18 (DC), ties a bow on this story, and his run, in a manner that is satisfying and organic (pun intended–every time!). Amidst Yanick Paquette’s gorgeous leafmotif visuals is a story where the damsel becomes the hero, the demon is rent asunder, and our lovers have their stars well and truly crossed. But not before the creators generously allow them one last (first?) kiss, in which their passion literally burns. A fitting finale to a mostly excellent run.

But Swamp Thing and Animal Man aren’t the only hero-inhabiting-a-new-body-travels-to-a-dystopian-future-to-defeat-unearthly-evil-then-returns-to-the-present-in-order-to-prevent-it-in-the-first-place stories this week. That’s right! The same exact plot is featured in Dynamite’s Dark Shadows #14!

Dark Shadows #14

Ah well, no new ideas and all that; it’s how well you handle them. Writer Mike Raight’s vampiric version involves Gothic plot twists, backstabbing (with wooden stakes, natch!) and enough Grand Guignol action to satiate any horror fan. Artist Nacho Tenorio does a nice job orchestrating the gore, alternating between excess and restraint, the way any 1960’s-influenced horror should. This isn’t all superficial bloodletting however. (SPOILERS!) Raight infuses some depth and existential quandary as the evil that the hero, Barnabas Collins, must destroy in order to save his family, is himself. There’s also a well-wrought, even delicate twist, as Barnabas’ mysterious ally reveals that aiding him and taking revenge upon him are, in this case, one and the same. Solid and compelling, this book is one of the most reliable sources of monthly macabre that you’re likely to find.

So, having been hooked by our attention-grabbing title, you’ve made it this far through our post, and yet you find yourself disappointed by the lack of any content that could be considered truly eye-opening.

SC: Hey! What about my–

DM: Well then, you’ve got an idea of the experience of reading Sex #1 by Joe Casey and Piotr Kowalski (Image).

SC: Oh, I see. Clever.

DM: Mr. Casey means well. In a heartfelt (and rather breathless) afterword, he holds forth on the state of today’s comics; mainly the continued dominance of the Big Two despite the wild variety and quality of other work out there. Well hear, hear! And yet, what does he offer us? A wealthy scion reluctantly returns to run his vaguely defined corporate empire. A seedy underworld controlled by a grotesque mob boss. Words of wisdom from a trusted Man (or in this case, Gal) Friday. And, oh yeah, said wealthy scion is a former superhero. This set up bears any number of resemblances to Batman, the newfangled Green Arrow, Ex Machina (a much better melange of superhero/real world tropes from eight years ago), etc. But wait, this has superheroes and sex. Well Watchmen broke that seal long ago. It’s simply no longer a shocking conceit (I mean even Catwoman’s done it for chrissakes). Now, to Casey’s credit, when the naughty section does occur, despite its fairly graphic nature, it’s contrasted in such a way that it is robbed of nearly all prurient titillation. The participants even call out the reader’s presumed lasciviousness, in a clever use of breaking the fourth wall. Kudos to Casey for subverting the expectations set up by his conspicuous title. But in the end, this is just another superhero comic. And what’s so sexy about that?

SC: I hear ya. Image did have another release this week that I enjoyed more than Sex—

DM: (tee-hee!)

SC: Uh-huh. Anyway, it’s Jim McCann and Janet Lee’s Lost Vegas #1. It came with a little less hype than Casey’s book did, but it was loads better. Though engaging from the get-go, McCann’s writing does prove a bit hard to swallow at times, especially as the Ocean’s Eleven-esque scheme is laid out; but Lee’s artwork is enviably voluptuous, a stunning exercise in sensuality.

DM: Yes, Lee’s work is certainly the star for me thus far. She blew me away on Return of the Dapper Men a few years ago (also written by McCann). There she dazzled with an unorthodox process that combined vibrant expressionistic backgrounds with the sublime precision of Winsor McCay (if you don’t know who that is, look him up. Look him up now.) Here the chameleon-like Ms. Lee seems to be offering something of the sensual loucheness of Aubrey Beardsley, combined with the sci-fi sensibilities of Richard Corben, and even a dash of Hayao Miyazaki for fun.

SC: That’s some company she’s keeping.

DM: Indeed. Like Batwoman, this could become a book that I buy for the art alone.

SC: Well worth the price of admission. I’m certainly up for round two.

DM: Now, returning to our theme, for a nuanced, astute, refreshing exploration of sex, one need look no further than Adventure Time with Fionna & Cake #3 (kaboom!):

Adventure Time with Fiona & Cake #3

Sex, in this case, denoting gender. ‘A childrens’ book?’ you say, eyebrow ever so arched? Well in its brief existence, Pendleton Ward’s magical juggernaut has tackled such concepts as abandonment, existential loneliness, first loves, the bonds of honor and friendship, pride, sacrifice, betrayal, the origins of myth, the nature of evil, the afterlife, determinism, fate, and nuclear annihilation to name a few. It never addresses these issues head-on however (it’s much too smart for that), but from rather more of a sideways angle, (and perhaps, blindfolded). Y’know, Stuff Happens. Each candy-colored episode is wide open to (and the subject of) much interpretation. It’s the type of show that dissertations will be written about someday(if that hasn’t already happened). I ask you, what better place to consider gender and identity issues than the sociological phenomenon that is Adventure Time?

For those who don’t follow the show (losers!) Fionna and Cake was a fan-favorite episode which featured alternate, gender-swapped versions of series’ stars, Finn and Jake. Now Natasha Allegri, who had a hand in that episode, gives the ladies a chance to shine in their own title. Issue 3 is the best one yet. The first two issues established the characters as well the epic, yet tongue-in-cheek tone that AT does so well. The third issue really delves into the gender stuff and shows why this is not your father’s (um, older brother’s?) AT. The story begins with Marshall Lee (the male version of the vampire Marceline from AT) suddenly appearing in the lead characters’ home in a state of distress. But unlike his female counterpart, who is decidedly bad-ass, this vampire is positively sparkly. Needless to say, Fionna has a crush (-and Cake does not approve!) It seems they need to rescue Prince Gumball, who is caught in a ridiculous trap, which I won’t ruin for you. Nor shall I spoil all the loaded symbols, pregnant pauses and hysterical double entendres peppered throughout the tale. These never come across as forced or excessive; they are, indeed the story’s raison d’etre. I will say that they culminate in a visual gag so audacious that I couldn’t believe it was in a children’s comic, even as I barked with laughter. And yet it perfectly encapsulates the major theme of this series. Sound dirty? Well, again, it’s not because all of the above is not so much dealing with sex, as it is gender and identity. I am not suggesting (as I have with AT’s sister book Bravest Warriors) that this title is inappropriate for children. Part of Allegri’s brilliance (in addition to the beautiful art) is that this book is, on the literal level that children tend to read, an exuberant, imaginative adventure/fantasy. It certainly can (and should, to some degree) be enjoyed that way. The storytelling is deft enough that whatever other meaning children take away from it is entirely up to them. And you. Book of the Week.

Like this:

You know you’re buyin’ a lot of comics every week when you tell your friends that this week’s a light week and when they ask you what’s light you say ten books and then add at least.

Pulled Pork

Change #4 (Image): It was bound to happen, its being a four-issue limited series and all. So far, I’ve loved the poetically enigmatic narrative and the volatile visual storytelling, too. I’d like to see this crew–Kot, Jeske, and Leong–on a monthly, please. I’d buy it even if I couldn’t understand what was going on; in fact, I’d prefer if it!

Change #4

Nowhere Men #4 (Image): Solid stuff. Damn fine design.

Nowhere Men #4

Archer & Armstrong #8 (Valiant): Smart, smart fun.

Bloodshot #9 (Valiant): Gamma!

Batman #18 (DC): Oh no: Harper Row. “Fan favorite”? WTF, indeed!

Thick Pickin’s

Todd, the Ugliest Kid on Earth #3 (Image): It’s not easy for me to quit on a short series if I’ve gone halfway. I hope I can muster up the nerve to just say no tomorrow.

Emily and the Strangers #2 (Dark Horse): Oh, why not?

The Rocketeer: Hollywood Horror #2 (IDW): #1 was really good–no, it was better than that! A book with a perfect tone. Roger Langridge and J. Bone nailed it on both ends. One of the top Derekommendations thus far!

5. Batman Incorporated #8(DC): In one brilliant stroke, Grant Morrison delivers on the promise that was left utterly unfulfilled by the much ballyhooed Death of the Family event (see below). With little fanfare (initially), Morrsion provides a satisfying climax to his long run on Batman. The death of a major character like Robin (um, spoiler alert?) is usually an overblown, portentous affair (as the follow-up story, Requiem, promises to be). But the irrepressible Mr. Morrison refuses to be such a downer (he may, to his credit, be genetically incapable of it). This issue is nearly non-stop, thrillingly orchestrated action. (Artist Chris Burnham – with an assist by Jason Masters – really outdoes himself here.) And yet, in typical Morrsion fashion, despite the breakneck speed, the story is packed, packed, with references, riffs and homages to Batman’s illustrious history. From the title (“The Boy Wonder Returns”), to the not-so-throwaway background details, even down to the goofy Pop Art sound effects, we are treated to an expansive embrace of the Batman mythos that has been the hallmark of Morrison’s run (one that, by its very nature, was undercut by the ill-timed exigencies of the New 52 relaunch). His approach is perfectly encapsulated on page 19, the climax of the issue, and perhaps, the series – the battle between Robin and his Adversary (in the truest sense of the word). A sequence that could have taken up the entire book is instead presented in a stunning, 20-panel kaleidoscope (again kudos to Mr. Burnham) of action, tribute and, finally, pathos. When the moment of truth does arrive, Morrison and Co. don’t skimp on the emotion of the event as the book closes with a poignant image that recalls the birth of Batman himself. (DM)

Batman Incorporated #8

4. Daredevil #23 (Marvel): An opening sequence for the ages–one that twists the title character’s origin story (often a cliche issue-starter) into something radioactively sinister–would’ve been enough on its own to land this book in our esteemed Top Five for the month. This comic is so much more, however: Mark Waid–with stunning assistance from Chris Samnee–brings a certain clarity to Matt and Foggy’s relationship that becomes even more profound and pitiable with the painful revelation at issue’s end. Remarkable work from Marvel’s best. (SC)

Daredevil #23

3. Dial H #9 (DC): After a down month, our #1 book of 2012 is back with a glimpse of what makes this book great: China Mieville’s seemingly boundless imagination–especially as it relates to his effortlessly sussing out superhero after glorious superhero. Also worth celebrating is the fact that Alberto Ponticelli (with inks by Dan Green) has without a doubt found his groove; he’s taken ownership of Nelson and Roxie and the rest with his signature style–one reminiscent enough of Mateus Santolouco to make the series feel whole again. (SC)

Dial H #9

2. Fatale #12 (Image): Our only carryover from last month, January’s best book takes a tiny step back on the list despite taking a giant step forward while taking its own giant leap back in time. This second Fatale one-shot is yet another taut tale, one that plays with our expectations–expectations expertly manufactured for us by a clever Ed Brubaker (with evocative art by Sean Phillips) during our torrid affair with Josephine Baker. As consistent as this book is, it never fails to surprise–and that is the mark of a creative team at the very top of its game. (SC)

Fatale #12

1. Saga #10 (Image): Claiming the top spot for the month is our #2 book of 2012. Brian K. Vaughn and Fiona Staples continue to intoxicate with their heady brew of space opera, screwball comedy and familial intrigue. The sheer verve of the storytelling, filled to the brim with imagination and heart, makes this issue such a joy to read that (as with the aforementioned Batman Inc.) when tragedy does occur (and it does), the effect is not depressing. No, the effect of reading this wonder of a book is exultant. (DM)

The Biggest Dis(appointment): Batman #17 (DC) – We’ve already expressed our dismay of the story itself – this Joker tale to end all Joker tales was instead all sound and fury, signifying nothing. But given the events and the excellence of the aforementioned Batman Inc. #8, the existence of the whole “Death of the Family” story line is even more baffling. Someone up the chain of command at DC must have known that this “epic” would conclude just before the publication of Morrison’s completely unrelated masterstroke (y’know, the one where someone actually dies.) Was “Death of the Family” then, spanning as many titles as it did, one giant MacGuffin (and a rather expensive one at that)? Was the relevance of Batman Inc. #8 toned down so as not to overshadow the Big Event (and possibly hurt sales)? Then, when Batman Inc. did come out, accompanied by a flurry of news coverage (‘natch!) who got left holding the bag? Sorry retailers who didn’t order nearly enough copies to satisfy the sudden demand! Sorry regular readers who couldn’t get their hands on the immediately-sold-out issue (unless they wanted to pony up $20 for a brand new comic). This whole farce had the neat effect of rendering Batman #17 even more irrelevant than it already was. It seems that, in the end (as Scott so eloquently put it in his initial review), the joke of “Death of the Family” was not on Batman, but on us. (DM)